Page 120 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

“I’ve had the proper mindset since dawn,” she said, her smile razor-sharp. She stretched an arm across her chest. “I’m ready.”

Her enthusiasm was amusing. Dark magic wasn’t like her healing arts—clean and pure and unwaveringly selfless. It demanded tribute. It took as much as it gave, often more. Like inviting a starving vampire to dinner and expecting it to be satisfied with the appetizer. Teaching Arabella to delve into that hunger... I suspected it would go splendidly and perilously off-script.

I stepped away from the wall, wrestling with a flicker of caution. “Before we start, there’s something you should know.”

She paused, halfway into another stretch, watchful as a cat with its hackles up. “Go on. Unless you’ve kidnapped yet another noblewoman while I was sleeping?”

“No.” I smirked, moving closer. “Though that’s not a terrible contingency plan.”

“Because I just moved my things into your—” She caught my look and sobered a bit. “Well, I’m just saying there isn’t room for a second wife.”

“Relax, there’s only one Mrs. Blackrose at the moment,” I quipped, ignoring the treacherous flutter of contentment in my chest. I forced my expression to sober. “I’ve made the mistake of keeping critical information from you before. I won’t do that again.”

Arabella’s smile faded, but she met my gaze steadily, ready for whatever I had to say. It was a nice change, this… honesty.

“It’s about the Heirloom. I noticed a small crack yesterday.”

“A crack?” Her brow furrowed.

“I first noticed it when Griffin summoned us to the eastern tower. It’s small, barely visible, but it’s there. And it’s growing.”

“Is it my fault?” she asked immediately, her voice tight.

“No.” I reached out, unable to stop myself from tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “If anything, it’s mine. Idon’t fully understand why, but our activities seem to be both powering it and potentially damaging it.”

Her eyes went wide. “When you say activities, you mean?—”

“Yes.” I let my hand drop, though I didn’t step back. “Every time we strengthen our bond, we risk destroying the very thing we need most.”

She took a step back. I could practically see the calculations running behind her eyes. The same ones that had kept me awake half the night.

“Further testing is required,” I added, flashing her a shameless smirk. “Rigorous, uninhibited research. Possibly against various surfaces. For science.”

“You waited to say this until right before you teach me destructive magic?”

“The timing seemed appropriate.” I gestured around the reinforced chamber. “Perhaps you could direct your first fireball at this problem rather than my clothing.”

To my surprise, she grinned. “That must have been difficult for you—telling me the truth. Especially about something that threatens your plans.”

I straightened. “Don’t get used to it. I still have plenty of villainous secrets.”

“I’m sure you do.” Her smile widened, and her eyes turned warm and dangerous all at once. “Show me a bit of this dark magic first. Then we can talk about how I might help with the Heirloom problem.”

Help. Not blame, not accuse, not demand. Just... help.

I raised my hand, summoning a small orb of shadow laced with a ripple of violet energy. “Dark magic doesn’t give like yours. It borrows, sometimes from the caster, sometimes from the surroundings. Even from life itself.”

Arabella leaned in to observe the shadows that swirled, flickered, and yearned toward her. She studied them unflinching, as though they were a riddle she intended to solve.

“May I touch it?”

“Not yet.” I closed my fist, dissolving the orb. “Lesson one: respect what you summon. Dark magic always wants more than you mean to give.”

Rather the same asher, I thought privately.

She absorbed my words with unguarded fascination, then tilted her chin. “I want everything: not just barriers and half-steps. I want the force you wield. I want to truly use it.”

“It won’t be easy,” I warned. “And once you begin?—”

---